The More Things Change
by carrotface
Summary: -He imagines that she must see in colours unknown and into dimensions undiscovered, into the past, present and the future with one glance- Minato is an idiot in love. But mostly, he's just an idiot. Part 3 is up! MinatoKushina, R
1. Chapter 1

Minato wakes up in an empty bed, to the smell of burning eggs. This is not a source of surprise; Kushina might, after all, be the worst cook the world has ever known. He stumbles into the kitchen, rubbing at his chin as he does. It _itches._

"Possibly because you haven't shaved in four days," Kushina says, patting his cheek and smiling in a tolerant way at his foolishness.

"Right," he repeats stupidly, looking at Kushina with languid, droopy eyes. This is the way he is in the mornings, before his three cups of black, bitter coffee. He drinks it stone cold; Kushina pronounces it to be a vile habit, but there is an icy cup waiting for him on the rickety dining table anyway. He watches her as she moves around the tiny kitchen in her loose brown drawstring pants and white tunic. She isn't much of a morning person either, her hair hasn't been combed or dried and she has stains of egg-yolk on her hands, from when she cracked the shells open carelessly.

She isn't a graceful person by any standards. By ninja ones, she is considered a bumbling oaf. Fortunately, her lack of silent agility is more than made up for by her ridiculous chakra levels and the raw, vicious power behind her attacks. To him, though, she seems graceful. Maybe it is because his eyes are as familiar with her loping, awkward movements as they are with the curve of her bared calf, which flexes as she bends down to pick up a spoon; his eyes trace the river of her green vein in a practiced way. She hums, low and off-key. The tune has been pulled apart and put back together in crooked shapes.

She slaps an omelette onto his plate, still humming. He wonders what the world looks like through her eyes. Kushina never sees things the way anyone else does, it seems. He imagines that she must see in colours unknown and into dimensions undiscovered, into the past, present and the future with one glance; even the most mundane things must be distorted in weird ways, made wonderful by her own way of thinking. He thinks of fractals and illusions and invisible creatures.

He eyes her as she sits across from him, spooning porridge into her bowl. She is an unprepossessing creature; her still-damp hair is curling riotously over her ears and forehead, as it does when it is particularly humid, she has told him crossly. She looks thoughtful as she rustles the pages of the newspaper. He takes a bit of his omelette absently and nearly gags. Discreetly, he nudges the lid of the waste disposal open, and empties the contents of his plate into it.

"I saw that," Kushina says, eyes still on the newspaper.

"Oh," Minato says guiltily, pushing his chair a little further away from the table. He doesn't particularly want to find out the many ways by which a person can be dismembered using only a spoon, after all.

Kushina is in a mellow mood today, however. She just "Hmphs" and doesn't lift her eyes from the paper. Minato is a little indignant.

"Do you want to train today?" He asks loudly, getting up and making his chair scrape obnoxiously on the floor as he does.

"Not today, Minato," Kushina replies, looking the tiniest bit uncomfortable. Minato's annoyance grows.

"Alright then." He says, trying to sound gracefully accepting. He has a sneaking suspicion that he just sounds sulky instead.

An awkward silence grows as he looks at her bowed head. She has opened the windows, so he can make out the morning dew weighing down the leaves of the delicate creeper that clings to their wall and lets a respectable amount of sunlight through. The light has pooled on the crown of her head.

Her hair has been burnished golden, a deep molten honey colour that mingles and gradually gives way—as everything must—to Kushina's own rich auburn. Ordinarily, he would have gone near her and run his hands through her locks, marveling at their beauty. But this new Kushina, who avoids his eyes and prefers reading the paper—the _paper_!—to speaking to him, this new Kushina he cannot approach. He feels desolate.

Abruptly, he wonders what life will be like without her. It will be a life without burnt breakfasts and ramen cups strewing every surface and sunlit kitchens. It will be a life with no sleepy morning smiles and no scratchy 'Good morning's and no after-sex sex and no girl with hair the colour of the blazing sunset—

"I love you," he says, heart in his throat. He is an idiot. He should have told her before. Or maybe he shouldn't have, maybe she hasn't liked how fast they are going…

Seconds—or days or eons—pass in that cramped kitchen before Kushina raises her head from the paper and looks at him. She _looks _at him, in the way that she does, all wry and uncomfortable and secretly pleased.

"Okay," she says. And she is just _his _Kushina again, whatever has been bothering her isn't anymore, and they smile at each other like idiots for what seem like hours.

"Oh," she adds, pushing him gently out of the way to get to the sink, "I'm pregnant."

END

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	2. Who's the annoying little shit?

A/N: A big thank you to everyone who reviewed/fav-ed my fic. I've decided to make this a series of short drabbles, since I feel like writing more MinaKushi stuff. Please Review!

Kushina is cold, wet and twenty five minutes late for class when she finally makes it to the Academy. It isn't her fault that it started to rain with no warning; it _is, _however, a little bit her fault that she slept through her alarm the first time it rang, and that she broke it the second time.

There are a few giggles and titters from the other children and a disapproving look from the teacher as she makes her way to her desk, cold, wet and fighting to look dignified. She opens her soaking wet bag and is dismayed to find that her books are sodden as well. The pages have stuck together; they've even become slightly mushy.

With a shudder, she tucks the books back into her sodden bag and tries to look as inconspicuous as possible. She curses her hair, which has all the discreetness of a house on fire. Luckily, the first period gets over in ten minutes and the teacher doesn't call on her. Glumly, during their twenty minute break, she wanders outside where the rain has subsided to a muted sort of drizzle.

She climbs the rotting tree near the only set of swings in the playground manages to find a position that approximates comfort. She is just contemplating the merits of dozing off and missing the second period when, a few feet above her, someone says,

"You're soaking wet,"

With a surprised cry, she jumps—an unwise move—and nearly loses her balance. Moments later, after leaping to a higher branch, nearer the eye level of the other person, she peers through the curtain of leaves.

It is that blond buffoon who keeps answering in class.

"Namikaze?" She asks incredulously, "You idiot—what're you doing? Surprising me when we're twenty feet up a tree! You really _are _a moron. Just wait," she adds bloodthirstily, shaking her fist at what little of his form she can see, "till we're on the ground. We'll see if you can face me like a man."

He laughs. It is a rich sound, exciting a flock of sparrows to flight above them.

"I don't want to fight you," he says, quite sincerely.

"I could take you!" She retorts at once, hackles rising. She will not tolerate condescension from anyone. "If you're too chicken to fight me in school, just say where and I'll—"

"I _really _don't want to fight you," he says, sounding bemused.

"Oh," she says, mollified. There isn't any mocking undertone to his words. "What do you want, then?"

"It's—you—this morning, you were late, and um, I thought-_if_ you want-I mean, Icouldsharemybookswithyou."

She stares at his mostly-hidden face through the foliage, confused. Why would he offer to share his books with her? He is top of their class and she is nearly at the bottom of it, beating out only that Hayate boy, and that was solely because he would only show up once in a week. Sick-leave, or something, their teacher had said.

Did Namikaze want to make fun of her answers and mock her spelling? Well, she could bear it. And, anyway, the alternative was being shouted at for ruining her books. It wasn't really much of a choice.

"_Fine," _she says grouchily, swinging down and hitting the ground hard with her sandal-clad feet.

"Don't think we're friends or anything," she adds quickly, turning to the tree where she can barely make out his blond hair through the laden branches.

"You're still annoying as shit." Turning away from him, she squelches away toward the classroom, purposely stepping in the puddles and splashing the other children. She smiles a little viciously as they squeal and back away from her.

Four minutes later, Minato joins Shikaku and Chouza on the terrace of the Academy building.

"Hey," Chouza greets him, "How'd it go?"

"Great," Minato says triumphantly, "She's going to share my books in class. I'm even planning on letting her cheat off me in the fourth period test she doesn't know about."

"There's a test fourth period?" Shikaku asks lethargically, eyes still fixed on a cloud shaped like a carrot. "Whatever. Like I'm even going to write anything. Anyway," he adds, "did Kushina even _act_ like she could tolerate you?"

There is a brief pause. "No," Minato admits gloomily, "And she called me an annoying little shit."

"Wow," Shikaku says respectfully, "You're really wearing her down, man. Usually, Kushina'd punch you for _talking _to her." Chouza nods, looking slightly awed.

"Hey yeah, you're right," Minato agrees, more cheerfully. He lies back on the sun-baked terracotta tiles, "I'm _definitely_ growing on her."

End of Part 2

TBC in Part 3

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	3. The Nile

It takes Kushina and her two teammates three days to reach Konoha. They are slowed down, partly by exhaustion and injuries, but mostly by grief. They hardly dare to look at each other; shame and despair hang thickly in the air around them. When they finally reach the imposing walls that protect Konoha, there are three ANBU who greet them at the gates.

Kushina feels a little strangely about the ANBU. Intellectually, she knows that they are just ninjas, like her, only they are masked, but for some reason whenever she sees them, a long, deep shiver passes down her spine. Unconsciously, her hand goes to her weapons pouch. It would be considered a highly insulting gesture, if anybody notices. It might even invite an official reprimand. Luckily, the ANBU are more concerned with more important matters, such as the absence of one quarter of their four-man cell.

Kushina walks blindly through the streets of the village along with her two teammates, uncaring of the blood on her clothes and face. There is only the sun, warming her face, and the sensation in her chest, as though her heart has turned to ice, or stopped beating altogether. She almost expects her soul to leave her body, that is how divorced from the world she feels; as though nothing can ever matter again. At last they reach the Hokage's office.

It is not a meeting worth remembering. Even though later, she knows she must have said something, given some explanation, the only things she can remember are the trembling of Hitomi's lips, the straight, set line of Katsuo's shoulders and the Hokage's eyes: she has never seen eyes like his on any other person; they are pained yet accepting, as though he has received more reports like theirs than he can count.

Oddly, this comforts her. They aren't the only ones to have to live with this raw, shattered feeling in their chests, and the ache in their throats when they think about their sensei. But she wonders _how_—how do you live with it? Every new sight, every new thought is accompanied by a wave of pain: not even the clean kind that comes with the slice of flesh; it is more like the aching _wrongness _of a wound that has festered for too long, and now the limb needs to be amputated.

There are gaps in her memory; long hours of which she knows nothing, except that she has existed through them. This bothers her less than it should.

On her eighth day back in the village, after the eighth night of waking up from sleep screaming, Kushina decides to visit Hitomi. It is not an entirely spontaneous decision, it has been nagging at her for a few days now, but it is the first time that she is acting on it.

She knocks on the pleasant light blue door of Hitomi's apartment, absently noticing the ferns next to the mat and the cheerfully garish dragon-shaped bronze knocker on the door. It is a cloudy day in Konoha, and she has brought an umbrella with her, in case of rain; this, she leans against the empty shoe rack next to the door. She hears movement on the other side after a few moments, and some shuffling sounds. The door opens. Kushina is not surprised; Hitomi must have sensed her chakra once she had entered the building.

The first thing Kushina thinks is that Hitomi must have been crying. Her eyes are red-rimmed and swollen, and her cheeks have become puffy the way they do when someone stays up the whole night bawling. Hitomi stands there uncertainly, in her drab brown pyjamas and nest of uncombed hair, just looking at her.

"What?" Hitomi asks, and there is nearly an undercurrent of anger in her tone. Kushina cannot understand; after all, she has never been friends with Hitomi and she rarely even speaks to Katsuo, but they _are _teammates. Kushina reasons that being teammates has to count for something, after all.

"N-Nothing," Kushina stammers, taken aback by the other girl's hostility, "I thought we could, um, talk…about what happened…since sensei…died, I mean."

Without any warning, Hitomi bursts into tears. This time, there is definitely anger curling around the edges of her words as she says, words interspersed with loud sobs, "I don't want to talk to _you! _It's _because_ of you that sensei didn't bother about Katsuo and me! He always went on about his precious Kushina with her freaky chakra levels and stupid ninja spirit. He didn't even _see _us. We were ninjas too! And he didn't even _care, _and I thought I wouldn't care too."

Abruptly, she stops crying fixes, Kushina with a lost, watery-eyed look and continues in a whisper, "But now he's dead and I want to die as well. I didn't even _like_ him! He was always _yours, _so now all I can do is pretend I don't care. But—I—can't—do—that—with—you-_here_. So, please, Kushina, don't come back here."

The door is slammed in Kushina's face. She feels weak and a little dizzy; a natural reaction, she thinks, when a girl finds out that her teammates have hated her all this time. Clearly, going to Katsuo—not that she had been planning to—is out of the question as well.

Blindly, she goes to the roof of the Fire Country's National Bank, the second tallest building in the village. Its height is somewhat misleading; Konoha certainly lives up to its title of 'village', and so very few buildings are more than seven floors high. The tallest building is, of course, the Hokage's Headquarters, on the other side, near the ninja training grounds. The bank is, of course, situated near the markets, at the center of the commercial area.

She will sit here for a few hours; the colder air here always helps her think more clearly. Later, perhaps when her stomach decides to register hunger, or when she thinks that she can bear to look at other people without feeling sick, she will go to the markets, or Headquarters. Maybe she will ask for another mission.

Above her, the clouds give way. There is a sudden shower of gloriously cold rain, soaking her through in a matter of seconds. It is almost a proper storm; the trees are shaken by the force of the wind, and she can taste the sharp metallic tang of lightning on the tip of her tongue.

She doesn't feel hollow anymore; just a bone-deep stillness. Suddenly, she raises her head and howls. She can almost hear herself above the roar of the wind and the pouring rain. Her cheeks are warm and cold at once, as her tears mingle with the chilly raindrops. Abruptly, she goes silent again. This is all she will allow herself, now. In the darkness, with the clouds choking the sun, she can hardly see the concrete she is standing on, much less the trees that are threatening to bow down all around her. She can't even see herself.

There is just the barrage of sound from the storm around her, and the unmoving stillness in her mind.

END OF PART 3

A/N: Yeah, that wasn't even remotely Minato/Kushina, but the angst just went better with the flow this time, and inserting some ship-ey moments just didn't feel right. As always, thanks to all those who reviewed/fav-ed this, and I wish that the rest of you—who added this to their alert list, lurkers, etc. would also _tell me what you think._

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	4. Fateful Meetings

The sun is beating down on her with great ferocity, and that is how she knows he's there—because of the absence of the grinding sunlight. It falls directly into her eyes, blinding her. Droplets of sweat scurry down the sides of her forehead. The dust from her hands has somehow settled itself into all the recesses of her body. Her face is fixed in a squint against the sunlight, and then suddenly it isn't there anymore.

She blinks—once, twice—the sudden darkness hurts almost as much as the light did, and in the cool air of someone's shadow it feels as though she has dunked her head in ice cold water. She looks up and her eyes slowly adjust to show her the figures of two people—a boy and a girl. The girl is pale and delicate looking, and she must have been Kushina's classmate in the Academy because she is very, very familiar. The boy, though, is Minato.

She runs into him everywhere—when she's doing her shopping; taking a walk; doing her laundry. It sounds odd, but she knows his appearance well enough to notice that he has acquired a new kunai holster since the last time she'd seen him. And, no, he _still _hasn't cut his stupidly long, floppy hair.

"Afternoon, Kushina."

It is Minato who speaks first—it almost always is. His face crumples into a stupidly blue-eyed smile, as though he's happy he found her. He is bouncing nervously on the soles of his feet and darting anxious looks at his teammate every few moments. It is a little odd, but what is odd in other people, Kushina has learnt, is perfectly normal behaviour in Minato.

The girl, on the other hand, looks slightly amused. It only shows in the slight folding of the skin above her lips, but Minato seems to sag with relief. _Interesting, _Kushina thinks, The girl—whose name might or might not be Miho—uncrosses her arms and looks at Kushina coolly. Kushina stares back at the two of them. _This is, _she thinks, _the most bizarre thing that's happened to me in weeks._

"Minato," she acknowledges stiffly, "Um…Miho."

The skin above Miho's mouth creases again. It unnerves Kushina slightly.

"It's Mikoto," Mi-ko-to says, and Kushina sees movement in the corner of her eyes which must be Minato shuffling his feet.

"Right," Kushina agrees, awkwardly leaning against the spade that is stuck in the ground.

"So…" Minato says, body trembling with unspent energy, "What're you doing?"

Kushina snorts. She can't help herself because "What're you doing" is exactly the kind of thing Minato would ask a tired, sweating, dirty girl with a spade in her hand knee-deep in fertiliser. So she doesn't answer his question. Instead she gives him a look filled with so much contempt that he actually wilts a little under her gaze. Which is a little satisfying. Crushing Minato makes her feel a little better but it doesn't make the slight feeling of unease go away.

She never has been comfortable around girls—never, not in her whole life has she ever been friends with a r_eal _girl. Girls, it seems, are naturally repelled by dirt and sweat and Kushina doesn't even have the required organ that would make her disheveled appearance 'rakish' and 'charming'. And she wouldn't care for a girlfriend anyway. She thinks.

"Are you on a mission?"

Mikoto asks this, and her face is completely blank of expression. It fascinates Kushina because she has never seen anyone who is so tightly controlled and self-possessed before. It is an admirable quality in a ninja, she knows, and her own short temper is one of the obstacles that lie in the way of her becoming a great ninja. Well, that's what her sensei says anyway. Every part of the other girl's body language only tells Kushina what she is allowed to know. It would be exhilarating to see Mikoto angry or enraged, if she is even capable of such an emotion.

"Yeah. My teammates are taking a break."

Minato frowns. Well, technically he's still smiling like he's had a whole bottle of the pink pills the nurses at the hospital give you for pain, but there are less blindingly white teeth on show now.

"They left you alone."

Kushina straightens up.

"Well, yeah. I guess they thought even _I _couldn't screw up planting tulips in a line."

"Yes, even you—I mean of course you'd do fine without them. Er…" he trails away, looking apprehensively at Kushina. Because she has just pulled the spade out of the earth and is looking distinctly murderous.

"I think Minato would like to take over for you, while you rest."

Kushina looks at Mikoto, surprised. So does Minato, who didn't look like he'd known until then that that was what he wanted to do. Then Mikoto pokes him in the ribs with her elbow. Kushina actually winces in sympathy. Mikoto's elbows look pointy and dangerous.

"Ah—yeah! Exactly. I'll dig the holes while you—um—take a break."

In spite of herself, Kushina is tempted. But—

"I can't. My teammates—they'll be back any second. If they think I'm slacking…"

"Oh they won't," Mikoto says smoothly, "We saw them walking towards the ramen stand just now. They'll be a while, I think."

"I," Kushina says uncertainly, looking between Minato—who looks like a puppy that wants to play fetch—and Mikoto—who looks enigmatic, and says, "Fine—but no deeper than seven inches, alright?"

Minato nods vigorously. Kushina hands him the spade and goes to stand by Mikoto.

"So," she says after a moment of watching Minato struggle with the dry-as-dust earth, "Were you two on a date? Did I interrupt or something?"

Kushina felt a little contrite. True, it must have been a pretty shitty date if Mikoto would rather have her boyfriend plant tulip bulbs while they were out, but still.

"Oh no," Mikoto replies after a pause, "_We_ weren't on a date."

Kushina doesn't quite know what to make of that pause.

"Anyway," Mikoto adds suddenly, turning as though preparing to leave, "It was very nice meeting you Kushina. I'm sure we'll be friends."

Kushina stares at the other girl's back.

"Hey!" Kushina yells after her, "_Hey! _You can't just decide that on your own, you freak! _Hey! _What the—"

"Calm down," Minato says, and Kushina spins around to find him leaning against the spade now, "That's just how Mikoto is. Sorry," he adds with a lopsided grin, "Looks like you're stuck with her for life."

Kushina tries to clamp down on the sudden lightness in her chest.

END OF PART FOUR

A/N: Ah, sorry about the long wait. I've just started college so things have been really busy for me for the past few…um…weeks. Hehe.

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